open windows

Today is all I have!

2012-01-21T20:37:00.000+05:30

A dear friend was involved in a horrible accident yesterday. His bike skidded on a busy main road and a car banged into him. Thrown off his vehicle, he fell into the path of an oncoming lorry which went over his arm! When onlookers screamed thinking him to be dead, he jumped up and stood up in shock clutching his fractured arm.

Narrating this incident very calmly a few hours later, his arm in a sling - I was amazed at his miraculous escape. What happened to you at that moment when the truck went over your arm? I asked him. I saw a blinding light and then I had to get back...The determination in his voice was pronounced.

I knew he had to get back.

In life's unending sagas, such moments shake us all up. Life is short and let us not postpone that celebration yet. Who knows what tomorrow brings? Today is all I have, my friend.

And I asked the wind to sing me a song...

2011-12-31T02:49:00.000+05:30

Last week saw me travelling to Wyanad to meet a tribal healer for a friend. With a tumour in his brain any mirage of hope is something to shout about. I saw hopeful faces around me in the small makeshift clinic. Encouraging stories, miraculous stories. Filled with hope my friend and I returned back. I was happy...happy to share with the world this great opportunity...this respite from chemotherapy...this journey into India's heartland into its very soul - for a cure from a dreaded disease...

I skipped a heartbeat when a dear friend shared with me - I have a cyst..very many cysts...Oh the pain! The wretched pain! Not you. Anybody else but you!

Life puts us on the razor's edge.
And all I have is my faith.

Somewhere within a voice speaks back to me - 'And that my friend, is what makes all the difference'.

(Pic taken by me somewhere in the foothills of the Himalayas while on a theatre workshop early this year.)

Happy Children's Day !

2011-11-17T20:04:00.001+05:30

Currently acting in a children's play - 'The Devil's Tree' which is slated for numerous performances spread over the next few months. Acting as a 10 year old was a tough proposition. Seeking the child within and celebrating that moment was key to pulling off this role. After numerous failed attempts during rehearsals, I became more determined. What followed was a month spent in contemplation and observation, between hectic rehearsals. Finally it clicked. Dumlu became a reality...a living breathing tenacious ten-year old.

Turtle Story

2011-11-03T18:14:00.000+05:30

When my animal-loving friend Raman got three turtles to add to his collection of more than fifty fish, a dozen lovebirds, a Labrador and a rather large snail; I decided I had to take pictures of the new inmates.

Happily ensconced in their portable dwellings the three little fellows were more than happy in their new surroundings. A large aquarium with a blue background was their home. Large rocks provided them the opportunity to climb up and rest. I could see that they were well taken care of.

Watching them was an experience by itself. However, once the initial frenzy of excitement subsided, I thought to myself - wouldn't it be better if they could go back to a natural habitat...That would be the ultimate gift one could do for conservation.

Maybe...one of these days, I will convince my friend to do the deed. I am sure my turtle friends will be more than thrilled at the prospect.

We will survive!

2011-10-26T20:42:00.000+05:30

When my childhood friend Brijesh Tolani requested me to photograph the Terry Fox run he was organising in Bangalore (in aid of Cancer research), I happily agreed. I am an amateur photographer learning the ropes one frame at a time. Armed with my Canon 500D and a couple of lenses I arrived at the Kanteerava stadium even as people started flocking in on a Sunday morning. I ambled a bit. Took random pictures. The enthusiastic faces. The bright banners. Busy volunteers. And the stadium itself.

A large white board caught my attention. 'This is in memory of my beloved mother who fought cancer all through the way'...'For my brother who is no more'...' To my friend's mom who battled cancer...she made my friend a strong girl'...One by one, people started adding their personal message. It was a compilation of a collective narrative - the distress of a generation of people who had suffered the loss of a special someone - to a ruthless killer! The messages overflowed. Overwhelmed, I immersed myself completely into taking pictures. I had to record every bit of this event...

An unexpected discovery

2011-10-23T09:42:00.000+05:30

Earlier this year on one of my numerous journeys to my hometown Calicut, on a routine photography expedition deep into the countryside, I chanced upon the remnants of another era. Half a dozen pillars, or what remained of them caught my attention. Tall and imposing, they were heralds of a different time. They probably were cornerstones of a palace maybe or a large bungalow...? Isolated in their anonymity they offered a chance visitor like me an unexpected opportunity to celebrate.

The winding road

2011-10-21T21:13:00.002+05:30

Watching this picture that I took of a favourite spot sometime ago, got me on my feet - when I was going through the lowest phase in my life. Just when things were threatening to pull me down lock stock and barrel, I sat in front of my laptop watching this image, momentarily distracted. I visualized myself on that road driving and finding my space, navigating with great ease. I felt tremendously empowered just looking at this image. Nearly 8 months after those depressing days - I am back on my feet again. Like Kahlil Gibran says (somewhat to this effect) - 'I asked for greater happiness and you gave me greater pain'.

'...the deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.'

Trouble in Paradise

2011-02-08T16:46:00.004+05:30

Voice 1 (Excited): Hi, do you conduct acting courses for children?
Voice 2 (Pleasant): Yes madame, matter of fact we do.
Voice 1 (Even more excitement): It's for my baby girl. She is 6. Will you train her?
Voice 2 (Thinking): Yes I could train her. You may have to wait for a while before the next batch starts...Hey wait a minute...I know of a workshop which will suit her very well. There is someone I know who conducts Creative Intelligence workshops using theatre as the basis and incorporates rhythm, movement, puppets, art and other media to help the child grow emotionally and creatively over a period of time...We have found that children become more happier as a result of this creative input and there is an overall development in the child's well-being. The child develops his spatial, cognitive, and other skills...the inputs are all based on a multiple intelligence perspective where different learning aids are used so that the child develops creatively and also understands aspects like basic science for example...
Voice 1 (Thinking): Hmm...that's not what I am looking for...
Voice 2 (a little surprised): But this will help your child grow as a person...
Voice 1 (Firmly): No. I only want acting class for my daughter. You see she might be auditioning for a television serial in ten days time.
Voice 2 (Sarcastically): In days time? How exciting!
Voice 1 (With mounting excitement): Isn't it? I want her to be ready for the role...
Voice 2 (Impatiently): Madame, what you are asking for is to inject your child with a cocktail when she should be learning things naturally based on her learning curve. I see hundreds of parents like you who are very excited about turning their children into superstars ignoring their childhood. I am sorry I wont do what you want. You will have to find someone else. Goodbye (click)

The Lorax

2011-02-02T05:09:00.003+05:30

Staged two scintillating performances of 'The Lorax'. It was an awesome experience. The participants were students doing their Ms in Communications at Christ University. The journey was beautiful with the entire team shouldering the responsibility of putting up a fine performance. One more beautiful memory for the album...

Passing through

2011-01-22T22:58:00.002+05:30

My uncle passed away two days ago. He was 82 years. He had lived a full life and had donned the role of the patriarch of the family with ease. In his passing, all of us from distant lands had gathered - to pay homage.

We shared. Teary-eyed. Each one reminiscing. And we discovered that in his last days - he had realised that he had not much time left and had shared about what had to be done - for the family. About how we needed to take the baton forward to the next generation.

I look at the dawn
and it has always mesmerized me
but today is just like any other
the day is still young
the birds still sing
the wind is cool and fresh

this morning will be the same another hundred years hence
but tomorrow I may not be here
so come mesmerize me
life, embrace me in your gaze...
- Rajesh P.I

:)

2011-01-16T19:57:00.004+05:30

Pic Courtesy: imgfave

Once upon a time there was a fish...

2011-01-15T20:57:00.004+05:30

A year ago, a new bug had bitten me - aquariums! (I have this notorious habit of jumping into things and jumping out with the same speed - or so I am told!) So there I was with a four feet aquarium with a sole fish patrolling the waters.

Flowerhorn! For that was his name was a strong guy. All male - he would snap at anything that moved. He had a terrific appetite and my mother would croon to him in Malayalam, while Shri my rather bitter-half kept her distance - wary that this innocent hobby would make her a partner in such mundane things like cleaning the tank etc etc.

Well to cut a long story short, I realized that I could never leave the guy at home and travel wherever I wanted. So rather reluctantly, I gave him away to a dear friend, where he now resides. Flowerhorn's void was felt in a very big way and all of us kept talking about him and his antics.

When I visit my friend, out of my host's earshot I whisper to him in Malayalam and with a wiggle of a tail and with great excitement he swims up to me. 'Sorry friend I had to let you go but I hope you are well taken care of.' He gives me a piercing look and swims away.

Some deeds are not easily forgiven, you see.

Way back in the days when the grass was still green...

2011-01-14T12:05:00.004+05:30

Doing a theatre production - 'The Lorax' on 28 January evening at Christ University auditorium. Dr.Seuss's Lorax is a master piece. A poem written for children, but with a profound message for adults. Having been fascinated by 'The Lorax' ever since I got my hands on it sometime in the late 90's, my group has done about 30 performances of this production in different designs and styles.

This time I am working with 1st year PG students of Mass Communications who have been excitedly lapping up the theatre process. Using Body Theatre, songs and dance - it is going to be an interesting experience. For me it is a sort of home coming with this production.

A play

2011-01-10T15:39:00.007+05:30

My life is filled with colours, and lights and emotions. From one play to another to another... People and more people - in different shapes and sizes. People change but the outcome has always remained the same - a spectacular theatre performance. That is because, the theatre teaches people to believe in themselves - to forgive themselves - to inspire and to celebrate. When people are motivated the sky is the limit.

Seen above is a picture of a play staged last Sunday by young priests-in training. The result of a three director initiative for a 20 minute theatre piece which involved dance, 'Thullal' and Body Theatre. The play happened in the back of the auditorium at the end of some regular events which were staged on the Proscenium stage. Using the lighting console room, balcony and floor space with the audience shifting their chairs to face behind - a unique 20 minutes of drama.

(Pic features a torch dance by performers and a moment from the play.)

Smile on me angel

2011-01-09T08:31:00.004+05:30

Tanisha's father is Hindu while her mom is a Muslim and her grandparents are Christian. She is 3 and perfectly normal like any other children. To me she is the new India - of hope and dreams and all of that.

An 18 year old dream

2011-01-08T11:14:00.004+05:30

I start this new year with my brand new Canon 500 D. Photography was always a passion. Owning an SLR was an 18 year old dream. Somehow I never got around to doing it. This year I asked myself - if I knew that I had very little time on earth what would be the things that I would do ? This was one of them.

(Pictured above is a photograph which I took of a lovely painting on a friend's wall. I don't know the painter, but thank you - whoever you are...it makes me very happy to keep looking at your masterpiece).

A brand new year

2011-01-04T05:51:00.003+05:30

It's a brand new year ahead of me. What will I do with it? Will I whine and fret and lose its sparkle? Will I do time-tested what-i-do-all-the-time to keep my head above the water? Will I learn somethings new so that it will add a sheen to whatever-it-is-I am doing...

Whatever it is the beauty of stepping into a new year is simply unfathomable. Today, I am alive and I will live and breathe and follow my instincts. I have had a very happy life and I don't have any complaints. However, this year, I know will be different.

2011 started off with a great play. Yesterday was a stupendous experience with dancers, actors, music, lights and sets complementing and blending and creating a masterpiece for a delighted audience. The play 'The Tree of Life' staged at the Christ University Auditorium was simply fantastic. In the first show, tragedy struck - the tree which was the fulcrum of the play almost fell down and it took the presence of mind of the actors to prevent it from falling on them. What should have ruined the play, did not affect the actors at all as they went about their task with equanimity. The second show was even more spectacular as the play was raised to another level.

I learnt something invaluable - sometimes the tree will fall, but the question you ask yourself is are you still standing? Therein lies the difference. Happy New Year :)

Free spirit on wheels

2010-08-01T06:58:00.003+05:30

I watched the 'handicapped' man seated on the little wooden board with wheels and zipping through the train. He had no legs. He had a pile of books under his arm which he deposited in every coupe in the train. Passengers glanced through the books and picked out the ones they wanted to buy. When he returned he collected the money and took back the books which they didn't buy.

A free spirit on wheels, nothing bothered him or was a deterrent as far as he was concerned. Watching him was a revelation.

Slumming it out

2009-01-31T10:12:00.005+05:30

I watched Slumdog Millionaire yesterday and I was instantly transported to a story well told. The film is brilliant, the music simply great and the actors have given their very best. Technically and emotionally the film has great connect and I loved every frame of it.

Back in India we have a debate hotting up with people ranged on both sides of the zone. While one group claim that Slumdog is glamourising what the West wants to see in India, the other group like me is going ga ga over the film.

I just want to add my two-bit...with all the agony and searing truth presented before us, what one is left with after viewing the film is the incredible sense of hope. And that is the story of India - of poverty and hope.

When a book chooses you...

2008-08-28T19:24:00.003+05:30

Watching a movie (The Hurricane?) one sentence held my attention. One guy tells the other (it goes something like this), 'you know the funny thing about books is when you lay your hands on a book, most often it's the book that chooses you'. For me, that was stunnning. It was something I had known a long time ago!

I remembered my days as a member of the British Library. More than 13 years ago. I knew there would be a special book for me, waiting in one of those racks. I used to do something interesting. I would let my hand run over all the books as I walked down the aisle. And, at one point I would stop, because I knew or I rather instinctively felt that I had to pick up 'this' book. I would pick it up and when I read the summary on the back flap, everytime it would be an interesting storyline. Everytime, this worked for me! I can vouch for it.

That is the only way I could find a book to read. That is the only way I have read some of the most interesting books that I would have missed otherwise.

Pic Courtesy: Big Foto

I, an actor

2008-08-05T21:11:00.002+05:30

15 years ago (as a gawky teenager), when I sat open-mouthed watching a theatre rehearsal for the first time, the love was spontaneous and heart-felt. Today, hundreds of plays later, the relationship has only got richer.

But over the years I moved away from my first reason for joining the theatre - acting. From hitting the limelight, I learnt to help others experience the limelight. That journey was and continues to be equally if not more exciting. Training a bunch of newcomers and helping them develop the nuances of expressions and exploring and developing new vocabularies of emotions and body positions was simply a fantastic experience.

This year after a 7 year hiatus from acting, I donned the grease paint once again. In our latest production Alexander, which was staged on 4th July I became Leonnidas - a teacher.

And when I acted,
I made love
to the lights
the shadows
the murmur of the audience...
I swung on a swing of a million emotions
and I hid behind a veil of tears
And I acted, once again...

Devashola - Abode of the Gods

2008-07-21T21:23:00.003+05:30

With my all-the-time-getting-better half (Shri), I went to the Devashola tea estate in Coonoor for a short holiday. A place that one can conjure only in the imagination. Coonoor's pleasant weather greeted us. Tucked away in the Nilgiris, this is called Bison valley because there are more than a 100 bisons spread over a few thousand acres.

Sitting on our perch, under the canopy which afforded us a sweeping glimpse of the valley and the plains in the distance, we saw moments when the earth seemed to touch the sky. Silence and the song of birds. For four whole days, we were the only ones staying in the clean and spacious Planters Bungalow. The food was wholesome and vegetarian.

This is one place we would love to come again and again and again...

One flew...

2008-03-09T12:03:00.004+05:30

Some horrors refuse to leave you. Journeying through the intimate landscape of theatre puts one in close contact with the intricacies of human behaviour and relationships. Sometime ago I was invited to work in a leading women's college in the city and the subsequent opportunity to work with a teacher there. I was asked to initiate a theatre movement in the institution and this lady was co-ordinating this venture.

I soon discovered that madame was a self confessed expert in 'curing' dyslexia. Fresh from the after-effects of a path breaking Bollywood film which throws light on Dyslexia, I was curious about her approach in 'treating' the same.

Her solutions were bizarre and aimed at defeating the person rather than the 'problem'. God forbid anyone who approached this woman. She was herself a confused soul and her authoritarian methods would have definitely left psychological scars on her students. What characterised her was a super-human persistence at the risk of breaking down the student. While there are multi-disciplinary methods which initiate learning and create vital breakthroughs, what I saw instead was a primitive mindset.

This is probably true in a larger perspective. The wrong people are very often in the wrong jobs.

Pic Courtesy: Big Foto

When it's dawn...

2007-12-22T07:21:00.000+05:30

Death is not extinguishing the light;

it is only putting out the lamp because the dawn has come

- Rabindranath Tagore

When I recently went to a hospice for terminally ill cancer patients, I was forced to face some of my inner fears. 12 years ago, an acquaintance lived out his last fight with Cancer at this very place. I was younger, fearful and absolutely not inclined to see death at such close quarters. That memory was all the more punishing, when he had asked my mother, who had gone to see him, how I was...

And here I was in the avatar of a performer in a Playback ensemble, at the same place, the fears very much intact.

But what I learnt was that it wasn't about them, it was about me. It was about how ready I was to accept them, because they had already accepted me. They loved our performance. They laughed at their foibles, and celebrated their stories. They re-lived precious ordinary moments. The glow on their faces said everything.

If I could go back in time...

Pic Courtesy: Bigfoto

Death by Powerpoint!

2007-10-16T18:15:00.000+05:30

'Death by Powerpoint!', the trainer said a glint in his eyes, the audience looked back at him dazed. 'It's a joke', he feebly commented, still there wasn't the faintest smile anywhere. He was into his nth power point slide and wanted to see if his audience was with him at all. At the fag end of a series of training sessions, the participants from numerous countries were already 'dead'.

Trainers came in with big titles, from far off Pune, from the Indian Institute of Science, with army backgrounds, Psychiatry, 'art', fierce communists, gender experts, social welfare...you name it, they were all there.

No doubt, they were all experts in their own fields, but sadly to a group which was coming to terms with the English language their unending lectures only created confusion.

Any presentation can be made interesting. It is the art of communication. You have to play with your audience. Create exciting possibilities, draw them out of their comfort zones, gently at first and then they will join you. The mantra of a great training session is not about how many PhD's you have, it is about how 'young at heart' you are. It is about weaving a piece of magic for your participants.

Oh and what about our clever trainer, who cracked the joke...well he went on to his next power point slide.

(Moments from a 10 nation gathering at Bangalore).

a lesson in contrasts

2007-10-02T12:02:00.000+05:30

There is a Pakistani girl among the group. Articulate, sophisticated and with her striking looks she's a photographer's delight. In her modern clothes she is very much home here. You might wonder that she actually comes from a so-called 'conservative' society. There is another lady from Bangladesh, a self professed 'open' society, but this participant wears a robe which covers her head and her body. It is such a contrast. I just realize how little I know about my neighbours and that as far as 'truth' goes, the media has got it horribly wrong.

(Moments from a 10-nation gathering in Bangalore)

birds of a single feather

2007-10-02T11:35:00.000+05:30

We were all seated in a room. There were Sri Lankans, Bangladeshis, Indians, Nepalis, Thais, a Pakistani...people from over ten nations! But all of us looked so alike. If you didn't ask their nationality - they could all be mistaken for just another bunch of people. And, that moment was empowering. It certainly was, for me.
(Moments from a 10-nation gathering in Bangalore)

Pic Courtesy: Big Foto

My Balance Sheet

2007-09-15T17:01:00.000+05:30

I read somewhere quite some time ago about Emotional investment (Anthony Robbins' Unlimited Power, I think). It's like this - if you want to see your financial position you would look at your balance sheet and it would reflect your investments, your savings - basically it would provide an indicator of your financial health. Emotional Investment works much the same way, the only difference is it is an indicator of how much one has invested emotionally in relationships.

To keep a relationship healthy, it is necessary to make constant investments, because overdrawals can happen and that's when the relationship goes through a rough patch. I try to ensure that I look at my Emotional Investment Balance Sheet as regularly as I can. (But it doesn't happen as regularly as I would like to.) Have I overdrawn more from anywhere and not realised it? Am I investing enough...

And what is this investment? It could be a kind word, a gesture, an act of love, a gift, a thoughtful deed...

I look at my balance sheet and see all the relationships in various states and in different columns. There are those that are thriving and which gives me cause for celebration. There are those, where I have overdrawn heavily (my mother for instance) and I need to balance it, and there are those that are in the red - the ones that are the bad investments. At some point of time they were like anybody else - full of promise - but...

But then, with the passage of time things change and they remain there - a reminder of how fragile a relationship can be if it isn't nourished well.

Pic Courtesy: Big Foto

'this is our story'

2007-09-09T08:20:00.000+05:30

It was the peak of an Indian summer when we first visited them. Tucked away in a corner of Bangalore's Wilson Garden, this orphanage was home to more than a 100 occupants. Ranging from a six-year old to girls in their mid-twenties, I felt a curious feeling when I went there the first time. It's a little hard to explain - the neatness of the place, the tranquility, the quiet buzz of activity and the indescribable happiness as they played host to our theatre group was truly remarkable. I felt as if I was at home. That performance had a star performer in the form of Aeryk, that wonderful Playbacker from U.S.

I was conducting with ample help from Vinay who was translating to Kannada. The actors were in their elements and the audience were thrilled, that's when Jyoti (meaning light, divine light?) shared her story. As she shared I realized that this was their story, the story of these children.

One day, a few weeks ago, it had been raining heavily. Jyoti and her friends noticed that a baby squirrel had fallen from her nest and was now lying on the ground just outside their gate. The girls immediately took the baby squirrel inside and created a small nest made of cotton and old cloth. They then began nursing the squirrel. They fed it with milk and tried to make it's stay comfortable. But inspite of their best efforts, the baby squirrel died after a few days. The girls were distraught and inconsolable. But life goes on and Jyoti and her friends moved on. With a rare candour, she summed up to me - "in the absence of the mother squirrel, there was no chance for the baby to survive. No matter what we did, we could never subsitute for the mother. Every animal needs a mother to survive isn't it?"

I could only nod behind the tears that were threatening to overflow.

Pic Courtesy: Big Foto

When history is about a few wrongs...

2007-09-08T21:10:00.000+05:30

The conductor asked the children - what do you feel about the subject history? What do you feel when you learn about kings and queens, about kingdoms that have fallen and risen...?

There was a silence. I was among the quiet audience and here was one of the finest conducting you could find in Playback Theatre unfolding before us. It was an innocent question, but there was a raw nerve steadily twitching. I don't know if anyone else realized it...but what history could be fascinating, especially if your audience is blank about their very own history.

An orphanage is probably not the right word. In this happy world filled with a hundred people ranging from 4 years to mid-twenties, what can history feel like, if it's about a few wrongs...
Pic Courtesy: Big Foto

Of tigers and Bollywood stars...

2007-08-29T22:36:00.000+05:30

The participants of my Playback Theatre workshop were meeting after a week-long break and I asked them how their week had been. Carol who had been on a holiday with her hubby to a jungle resort shared her magnificent experience when she saw a tiger ambling across while on a safari. Her description filled us with awe. The moment when the tiger turned and looked at the people in the jeep for what looked like eternity, filled us with excitement. This was truly a most memorable incident.

After this incident I thought anything else would be boring. That was till Serah our youngest participant spoke. In her teens, Serah shared with us her meeting with Bollywood star Amir Khan who had come to shoot a film in our city. The moment she said this, Carol who till then was savouring the once in a lifetime tiger spotting, threw the tiger out of her mind and gushed...'Aaaamir Khaaaan!' Then it was chaos as all the women jumped on Serah to know more about the meeting. Did he have long or short hair? What was he wearing? Is he as fair as he is in the movies?What did he say.......?

No wonder tigers are becoming an extinct species. Sigh.

Pic Courtesy: Wikipedia

At 34

2007-08-26T00:42:00.000+05:30

At 34
Iam grateful to have my best friend as my wife
Iam grateful that when it came to a career I followed my heart
(Iam grateful that every day my passion for theatre only increases)
Iam grateful I chose to be optimistic
Iam grateful for all the nourishing friendships
Iam grateful for all the miracles
Iam grateful that I started working out
Iam grateful that Iam living in my dream home
Iam grateful that I got my driving license at last
Iam grateful that my love for Chicken Biriyani is undiminished
Iam grateful that through theatre Iam touching so many lives
Iam grateful that Iam happily alive in the age of the internet
Iam grateful that I got over my lizard-o-phobia just a little bit
Iam grateful that Iam not on Page 3
Iam grateful that success (when it arrives) will not get to my head
Iam grateful that I could sing my own song
that the choices that I made
right or wrong
were my choices after all
At 34 Iam grateful...grateful...grateful

Law of Attraction

2007-08-16T19:13:00.000+05:30

There are some turnings one takes in life's short - sweet journeys. These are the ones which are profound in their intensity. The ones that shape one's destiny. Finding the DVD of The Secret was one such moment.
I stumbled into the world of the Law of Attraction. Something I had always suspected, but something which was just outside my grasp of understanding. To put it plainly the Law of Attraction says that everything that you have experienced in your life, you have attracted to you - the good and the bad. Therefore what you think about or wish about or dream about is what is shaping your life.
Sounds scary and exciting isn't it? What it really means is that we are responsible for our lives and that we can choose to fill our lives with happy experiences or miserable ones.
Now, that is food for thought.
Pic Courtesy: Bigfoto

Rajkot Odyssey

2007-06-13T17:18:00.000+05:30

Last week I was in Rajkot for a theatre project. Rajkot's claim to fame is that this is where Mahatma Gandhi spent the early years of his life. Apart from this, Rajkot was once the capital of the princely state of Saurashtra. Along with two of my colleagues, we had gone there to train the teachers of a school in innovative teaching methodology using theatre.

Once you enter Rajkot you realise you are on Satwik land. There is absolutely no non-vegetarian food anywhere. All hotels will serve you vegetarian fare only. Plus this is certainly not the place for booze. Alcohols of all kinds are banned here.

Situated just 300 kms from the Pakistani border, what struck me the most was the oppressive heat, the giant lizards (with whom I finally made my peace with), the awesome food, the magnificently beautiful temples, the exuberant people, the peaceful roads & most of all - the gracious hospitality of the Christian priests who had invited us for the workshop.

With the temperature hitting 43 degrees centigrade, it was time to hit the bath tub again and again and again...

A Surprise

2007-06-05T20:04:00.000+05:30

Greetings on World Environment Day and here is my story to suit the occasion. I have a Papaya tree growing in my garden. I never planted it. One day I found it there. A little different from the others, he claimed a patch all his own. A few months later, and he is growing steadily, with the hint of his first fruit in the air. I think I know how he came here...

Last summer, I remember two of the neighbourhood brats (who have since left) happily sitting at their window and eating papaya with gay abandon. I remember seeing them spitting the seeds out at will. I also remember cursing them under my breath.

This summer held a wonderful surprise for me. The wonder of a papaya tree.

On a High

2007-05-19T23:39:00.000+05:30

Today was (it's 11:30 p.m now) a fabulous day. In bed, recovering from a flu and I heard news that the Xth standard ICSE results had come out. This is the Xth grade results and an important stepping stone in the career of school students in India. Over the last one year I had been on an assignment to teach Drama as part of the Xth std syllabus for an international school in Bangalore. This was the first time I had ever tried something like this.

The results were phenomenal. All the students scored very high marks in their Drama paper. The marks ranged from 87% to 97%.

Hurrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!

Once I can get out of this bed, I am going to celebrate. My better half - Shri, tells me that Iam a great teacher. Thank you, thank you! (Applause...applause) Ahem, I knew there was a catch somewhere...because now she wants me to learn C++ and teach her. Err, where's the loo!

The magic of Playback Theatre

2007-05-14T19:11:00.000+05:30

Our journey with Playback Theatre has been 7 years long. It is curious that I have not written about Playback in this blog before this. Well I can't give any reason. This improvisational theatre form has been such a tremendous experience for me and for many others who have gone through the Playback Theatre workshop conducted by my theatre group - Script Peoples Theatre, Bangalore.

Last Saturday, I was part of a Playback Theatre performance that we did for charity. Every second Saturday of the month we perform for charity. It ranges from an old age home, to an orphanage to a home for juvenile delinquents and so on. This time we were performing for this place called Bosco Mane. A great place, Bosco Mane is doing tremendous work to helping street children get off the street.

It was a memorable performance and I was personally acting after such a long time. The children were vivacious. They enjoyed every minute of it. Each tiny tot had stories to share. In their childhood they had gone through experiences which could make the veterans among us look like school boys. As performers we understood them and they understood us. Their little joys, their sorrows, their hopes...we captured them all.

As soon as the performance got over, grimy hands were held out at us, we were shaking them by the dozen. They were all around us...happy faces and their gratitude for having listened to their stories. There was this indescribable joy within me and so was the case with my team mates. The joy of a performance well done.

We will go back there again...another day.

File Pic: Playback friends Aeryk (U.S.A), Andrea (Canada), Umesh & Faiq (India) in a Playback fluid in December 2006.

Waiting for the Monsoon...

2007-05-09T19:44:00.000+05:30

India's romance with the monsoon dates back to history. Recent news reports indicate that the Monsoon could hit the Andaman and Nicobar islands in 3 days time. But there is still no news when it will first descend in Kerala...the first entry point into mainland India before it winds its way up till the spectacular display at Cherrapunji, (which used to record the highest rainfall in the world earlier).

I remember my childhood days, when school would open after summer and that would be when the Monsoons would begin. Opening days, were typically wet, filled with puddles and our time was spent sitting indoors looking forlornly at the slushy mess of what used to be our beloved playground. Over the years, I learnt to love the Monsoon - cuddled up with a favourite book sitting inside looking out as the Monsoon danced her customary dance. Some years when there was no Monsoon, India wept as her farmers suffered as that brought in drought.

This year, a great Monsoon is expected and Iam waiting...Waiting to celebrate the rains...

Pic Courtesy: Big Foto

Nilgiris Journey

2007-05-04T15:51:00.000+05:30

Featured above is the majestic Nilgiris Mountain Railway, supposed to have been set up in 1899, this train takes you on a fantastic journey through some of the most scenic locales you can find.

Our play was a success with the staging of VISION 2020 - The Trilogy at a public school. Training the students was quite challenging, given the background that they lacked the discipline required for the staging of a professional play. However, they rose to the challenge remarkably.

With the completion of this production, it was goodbye to the blue hills and the lovely eco-system it supports.

In the blue hills...

2007-04-25T16:21:00.000+05:30

My theatre journey takes me to the blue hills - Nilgiris. A century-old public school and their founders day play is what brings me and my team mates to this lovely get-away. Away from the heat of Bangalore, this is paradise. It seems as if I have stepped into yesterday. Rolling meadows, clean air, the cries of birds and time that seems to hang heavy in the breeze.

Among the birds I learned about the Nilgiri Verditer, a sparrow sized blue bird. Nilgiri laughing thrush, the noisy Bulbuls, Nilgiris woodcock, the orange minivet, the Malabar whistling thrush, the hill myna...

It's a lovely journey and I am blessed to be a part of it.

Pics of our latest play: Vision 2020 - The Trilogy

2007-04-19T14:14:00.000+05:30

It's all about sex, baby

2007-04-15T12:12:00.000+05:30

The biggest debate in India currently is not about our under-performing cricket team, but whether sex-education should be incorporated in our education system. This in a country where procreation is number 1 on our agenda - very soon, we will be the most populous country on earth.

Common sense would dictate that since children are exposed to everything through television, the internet and from our fast moving culture...it would be in their best interest that they are taught about it in a very organised and sensitive manner. However this whole debate has been sabotaged by political parties who with their various ideologies have prevented this from happening.

Critics argue that where sex-education has been introduced in the educational system, there (U.K, France to name a few) teenage pregnancies have only increased over a period of time. Accepting that is true, what do you think is happening now? Are there no teenage pregnancies now? Being closely involved in working with teenagers and younger people, I am aware that this is a ticking time bomb. The number of teenage pregnancies is not funny.

Information is power and with children attaining maturity as early as early as 9 and 10, it is very essential for sex-education to be introduced in a bigger way. Let us not beat around the bush and hope everything will be alright. It won't. One interesting thing about all this debate on national television is that children are being exposed to the A-Z of sex during the course of the discussions. One leading politician spoke of oral sex etc etc etc on national tv. He was against sex-education...hehehehe...

The cartoon above merely illustrates the reality of we Indians groping in the dark about what our illustrious ancestor wrote about in the form of the Kamasutra.

Inside the temple of Peace

2007-04-14T12:15:00.000+05:30

I had been hearing of the Tibetan monastery in Bylakuppe for quite a long time. To say that the experience was awesome would be an understatement. Seeing the 60 feet idol of Buddha looking back at us was a moving experience.

I found a strange attraction to the monastery. The silence, the imposing idols, the peace, the sparrows and the simplicity of the monks...

Journeys of a different kind

2007-04-12T17:10:00.000+05:30

Sometimes some journeys take you by the scruff of your throat and make you take a good hard look at life. Recently, Shri and I went to Coorg for a much needed weekend retreat. The bus we were travelling, was involved in a high-speed collision with another. Luckily no-one was hurt but the vehicle was badly damaged. Gingerly stepping over the broken glass and climbing out of the driver's door was quite an experience. Waiting on the national highway, bags in hand, with other shaken passengers, watching the stream of traffic passing by...I don't think I will forget this event for a long long time.

And then Coorg, sleeping out the stress and the tiredness for a few days. My date with local food continued...Pandi curry (Pork) at Coorg Cuisenette, a lovely place, which I was lucky to discover had authentic Kodava fare. The visit to the Tibetan Monastery at Bylakuppe. Something happened to me there. I will write about it soon...This journey was something. It had the gift of life for the both of us.

The VISION 2020 performances

2007-03-28T09:22:00.000+05:30

We have finished four performances and we are into our last lap today. The performances of our latest production VISION 2020 - The Trilogy which focuses on the lesser known aspects of the lives of Mother Tereza, Mahatma Gandhi and Abdul Kalam has been very well received.

It has been such an emotional journey. The smiles on the faces of the actors and the audiences has simply created terrific moments for me and my theatre group. The constant rant is - "why is this production not publicised well enough? More people would love to see such quality work in Bangalore..." Publicity has been our achilles heel, primarily because we work with common people who hold no interest for a media that is obsessed with celebrities.

But this is also Bangalore's biggest theatre production in recent times. We have 160 actors on stage. We are probably a rare group which attempts a theatre production on a very large scale consistently every year.

But there is another buzz going around...and that is word-of-mouth. People are talking..spreading the word..and it is beautiful. Audiences are coming after having heard from their friends. I have no regrets...this is the best way that it is meant to happen.

Pic: Our theatre invite

The Whines of India

2007-03-18T17:58:00.000+05:30

The reporter from the much reviled newsrag called me..
Rag: Hi, this is about the play you are doing...
Me: Yes?
Rag: Our policy is not to write about theatre...
Me: Sorry?
Rag: We don't write about theatre in our national newspaper. But we write about celebrities and what they do in their spare time...
Me: Oh? ...What was it you wanted?
Rag: Well I wanted to know if you had any celebrities acting in it...
Me: Celebrities?
Rag: You know...Page 3 crowd...any actors, designers...socialites...interesting people...people who party...who I can write about...
Me: No, we don't have any celebrities acting in our play...why do you ask?
Rag (Disappointed): Well if you had a celebrity on your play, then I could interview him/her and then mention among other things that he is also doing this play of yours...
Me: Oh we have no celebrity or anybody remotely famous, by your standards... All we have are about 120 odd actors...
Rag: 120?!! (That number has now increased to 160)
Me: Yes...it's the biggest production in Bangalore at the moment.
Rag: But no celebrities...
Me: These are regular people..right from school children to teachers to working professionals...
Rag: Yawn
Me: We do such a big production like this every year...no other theatre group anywhere else does something remotely like this...consistently...
Rag (bored) : Who is directing this anyway?
Me: _________
Rag: Who is that?
Me: Well I am talking about people who have devoted their lives to theatre...they are not exactly famous but they've been doing theatre for a living..
Rag: Ya...okay good bye...
(End of conversation)

Cartoon Courtesy: Derf

Ask...and it is yours!

2007-03-17T18:35:00.000+05:30

When our leading actress was down in bed following a road accident, I was momentarily shaken. She was easily one of the best actors I had worked with, in a long time. She had suffered what the doctor said was 'something between a nerve damage and a hairline fracture' on her forearm. The entire group of actors I was working with, got together the next morning, and we did a creative-visualization for her. We visualised that she would be healed and join us for the production.

Really, with just about a week to go for show dates, it was like asking for the moon!

Well, she came back two days after that with her hand fully healed. Her doctor was taken aback and seriously wondered if his diagnosis was wrong in the first place! Ha ha! Her hand is so good that she has started riding her scooter as if nothing is wrong. I am so happy for her and the rest of the team, and our play is steadily progressing to what we think will be a spectacular finale.

Letting the sunshine in...

2007-03-11T20:14:00.000+05:30

The Carnival of Miracles is designed to be a welcome respite from the glut of negativity that one is bombarded with everywhere. By reading real-life instances of miracles one is connecting to oneself and thereby the universe.

For me, it has been a personally enriching journey, touching base with some really wonderful bloggers from around the globe who have shared some very powerful instances from their lives. When I wanted to create a platform where people could share their personal miracles, I hoped that it would help people in distress. Somebody sitting somewhere would find meaning in their lives, just by reading what others had gone through. A cancer patient teaching a lesson or two about life to a healthy person is truly awesome stuff.

This Edition of the blog carnival ranges from achieving after-life connections to the awesome power of self-healing to the pursuit of happyness to meeting calvin & hobbes...
To see it all, visit Let the sunshine in

And when the sunshine is truly in, life can be one really amazing dream.

Pic Courtesy: Zena Holloway

A childhood tale

2007-03-07T20:32:00.000+05:30

I was nine years old and the entire village had crowded around me. My father had been a very popular man and their tears were a tribute to his memory. The priest made me chant a lot of verses. Dressed in a white towel, I looked at my father's ashes impassively. My mother was somewhere inside but no one seemed to notice that. She, for all purposes was forgotten by the crowd. Their sympathies lay with me. Poor boy! At such a young age! A terrible tragedy! I heard all of this. I knew somehow (although I don't remember how) she was weeping and in a semi-conscious state in one of the rooms of the large house, with a servant girl for company.

Finally the rites were about to conclude. An offering was to be made to the crows. In Hinduism we believe that when the crows partake of the final offering, the dead soul is at peace. It was a tasty offering. A fistful of boiled rice, with banana pieces and payasam. It would, no doubt be a tempting morsel for any crow.

The air was filled with the cries of the ravens. They appeared on the trees. There were hundreds of them and their cawing filled the air. The priest made me lift the offering which was placed on a small banana leaf and made me place it in a clearing very close to the birds. He made me step aside and all of us waited for the crows to attack the tasty morsel. But something very weird was happening...not a single crow as much as lifted a wing! They just stayed on the branches, cawing. The crowd was worried. My oldest uncle immediately suggested that probably he needed to make the offering considering he was the eldest in the family. He walked upto the clearing and lifted the offering and placed it a little further away. Still, the crows kept watching. The priest suggested that probably the birds were scared of all of us and asked all of us to go back a little bit. And the crows continued watching. It was an eerie sight. All those crows waiting and watching.

Suddenly the priest had a brainwave, he asked for my mother. That is when a lot of people realised her absence. They hurriedly looked for her. Soon my mother came walking out, held by the maid, looking dishevelled weak. She walked upto the clearing and barely had the strength to bend and lift the offering and place it a foot away, when the crows started attacking. One - two - three...It was a frenzy. Within seconds the offering was history. We were stunned.

Even today this memory is so clearly etched in my mind. This tale, about the day when through some divine process, the crows taught my family a lovely lesson in humanity.

Waiting for Godot

2007-02-28T19:43:00.000+05:30

We searched for our friend
who had long gone into hibernation

We make our moves
our entries and exits
we learn our lines
share our laughter
and wait for news from him.

He didn't come,
this friend of ours,
last summer he shared the stage with us
his gentle smile and enthusiasm
had given us company
what happened to him?

His phone is switched off
his emails are unopened
his door is locked

What can happen from one summer to the other?
What happens to people...
and friendships...
and all of that stuff?

March of destiny

2007-02-18T09:31:00.001+05:30

This is a very famous picture of Gandhi being led by a child. This is such a beautiful picture. There are so many ideas which emerge. Of a leader who is willing to be led. Of a 'tomorrow' that is eager to take the baton from a tired 'today'.

This is a spontaneous moment. Maybe, it lasted for a few seconds, a few minutes...? The photographer was there at the right time and did what he was good at...click. A moment of time forever enshrined in history's memories.

On the verge of doing a theatre production where Gandhi will be my primary focus, this is such a lovely gift. Inspiring... thought provoking...of a leader being led...

Pic Courtesy: mkgandhi.org

Vision 2020

2007-02-15T22:00:00.000+05:30

Much of my group's theatre journey has been like a happy tumble - from one experience to another. When I directed my first play in the amateur theatre fresh out of college, we had our rehearsals in a small classroom in an equally small school. From there our journey took us through the length and breadth of the city. Different rehearsal spaces, different people, different experiences...

Nothing was ever planned. It just happened. One meeting led to another meeting. One contact led us to another contact. Life was eventful - always exciting. When I was stuck in a corporate board room pushing newspaper sales, I found the place suffocating - my only respite was theatre. During evening rehearsals was the time I became fully alive, savouring every minute of it and giving me the energy to live my corporate avatar.

Last year, my group decided that we would focus on President A.P.J Abdul Kalam's road map for a developed country. This vision document titled VISION 2020 is the single most biggest theatre production in Bangalore. Last year we had 100+ actors, a rock band, acrobatics, musicians, dancers, singers and actors celebrating the sheer thrill of theatre by looking at India - yesterday, today and tomorrow. This year on 27th March we will hit the stage again with a bigger and better production, the theme being 'Teams'. This production is open to all age groups and casting will be done on 17th Feb.

It's exciting, challenging and exhilarating...I feel I am bungee jumping again and again and again...

A blog carnival

2007-02-11T20:02:00.000+05:30

A blog carnival is a time to celebrate blogging. Here is a treat where some top quality blogs have all been placed on one platter.
Layers upon layers
Some really interesting stuff to look forward to...

Jiro

2007-02-11T11:06:00.000+05:30

Jiro (pronounced Hy-ro) is Columbian. His canvas of theatre spans 3o years and includes Chinese theatre, German Theatre, Kathakali, Kalaripayattu among other art forms. At 53, Jiro is the fittest man around. His acrobatics leave me tongue-tied.

Jiro is now working with my theatre group. Together we are learning to push our bodies in ways which we thought was impossible. Using techniques of Kalari and other forms that he has mastered over the years, he is making me believe that I can do a lot of things. It is amazing. It is liberating. It is truly empowering.

I am reminded of a Japanese saying - When the students are ready, the master appears.

Falling down

2007-02-05T09:52:00.000+05:30

He stood a good 30 feet above the ground. Lord of all that he surveyed. He was the king of our bylane. He gifted the denizens of the street with sweet gifts. The swish made by his leaves in the wind was a comforting sound. I would often look at him and imagine that he lived a good life. In his thirteenth year and still growing, I would wonder where he would finally stop.

The old man, in whose compound he grew, bought a car a few days ago, that's when he realized that our friend was getting to be a nuisance. The verdict was out. Our friend had to be cut.

Yesterday, the men came with axes and ropes. They cut two lemons and burnt some incense sticks. They then prayed and asked for permission from our friend - to cut him. Then began the brutal assault. They first cut his leaves, one by one. It must have been humiliating for him, king of the lane. I didn't realize he wasn't going to give up without a fight. When they struck the final blow he swerved and fell, right on top of the electric wires bringing down four electric poles with one clean sweep.

King, Emperor, whatever you call him. In his fall like a true warrior, he brought us all to our knees.

Pilgrim's Progress

2007-01-30T08:06:00.000+05:30

Through the lanes of Thallassery, next to Mukunda Talkies, is a bylane. As you walk down the road, you come across a temple on your left. A little ahead is an old home - more than 150 years old. This is the ashram. You enter the imposing entrance and inside is the quietest place you can find. (Where did the traffic noises die down? It is amazing because only 50 metres away is the main road).

A large courtyard greets you. You wash your feet and hands in the tap nearby. The place is quiet, empty. A large board greets you - "This is a place where silent energy prevails. Kindly do not indulge in worldly talk here".

And the magic begins.

The stillness is overpowering, there is an unexplainable peace here. You walk into the ashram. You are first greeted by the idol of the Divine Mother. Quiet, still, radiating with positive energy. You look around, there is a room to the left. You feel as if you have stepped into another world. Old furniture, photographs and silence. You walk up the wooden staircase that creaks a little. The red oxide flooring reflects your image just like a mirror. Upstairs are two rooms on your left. The first has a swing with pictures, flowers, incense sticks. The second is the meditation room.

This is my heaven. A visit here once every few months fills me with incredible peace and energy. Gives me the strength to carry on.

Time Out

2007-01-27T07:48:00.000+05:30

I was talking to a teenager the other day, and he shared some very touching incidents in his life. I felt honoured that he took me into confidence and shared what I thought were extremely saddening incidents. I was moved beyond words.

His story was a story of poverty and neglect. As he narrated with a straight face at the humiliations that he had gone through, I realised that it must take tremendous amount of guts for anybody to share such personal stories. At the end of the narrative, he told me something which I thought was very significant.

'One thing I realize', he continued, 'is that at 20 I can start life afresh, not with the baggage of the past. I can create my own identity...I can decide where I am going and how I want to do it...I am a new me and I am happy.'

I felt that was very profound and that is my Republic Day story. Yesterday India celebrated Republic Day, and I wanted to write something significant on this ocassion. I salute this young man and others alongwith him who have the courage to re-write their destinies.

Wanted - A Pied Piper for Kochi

2007-01-24T09:03:00.000+05:30

I was in Kochi for a few days early this week. Kochi has a lovely history. A prominent sea port that exported spices to the world, one of the last jewish homes in India (before they left for Israel) and a very vibrant and cosmopolitan city that is going to be among the newer homes of the IT revolution in India.

But Kochi, this time for me was a nightmare. Much like the fable of the town of Hamlyn which was run over by rats, Kochi is the modern version of Hamlyn - the only difference this time is that it is run over by mosquitoes!

Mosquitoes here...mosquitoes there...mosquitoes everywhere...on the street, at home, in the restaurant, on the train...they follow you everywhere!

The newspapers are filled with stories related to this. The usual suspects are piling garbage, and untreated water. Famous poet and writer Kamala Das (a.k.a Kamala Suraiyya) is leaving Kochi and Kerala for good. Her statement that she was leaving because her city was becoming unhygienic got the Chief Minister rushing to meet her. It's not good PR if your famous artiste leaves for such a reason. But the writer is not budging, she has lost faith in the politicians and the bureaucracy to do any good.

If you are visiting Kochi, be prepared to donate some of your blood to the marauding hordes, who have developed immunity to all the regular mosquito repellants. This is not an exaggeration, Kochi is a ticking timebomb.

God's own Country? Ya, right! Right now looks like God is the only one who can live with some sanity in this city.

Pic: Jim Gathany http://www.cdc.gov

One more please...!

2007-01-20T06:29:00.000+05:30

When friends visit town, one of the pilgrimages they gladly undertake is a visit home to taste my mother's cooking. For years, the sea-food that she cooked had built quite a reputation. They were authentically prepared and a treat to the senses. So much so that, after tasting her cooking, most people avoid eating fish from a restaurant.

Recently a few Canadian friends came home and they were the latest ones to be bowled over by her cooking. They took back the soulful taste of fish, when it is cooked just right. For mom, cooking isn't a task, it is a form of expression and celebration. The crisply fried Seer fish gives itself another aroma when it is cooked in a pot with all the masalas blending into perfect harmony, the Kallumakkai or mussels which can be deep fried or cooked in curry, the succulent crab curry, mouth-watering Chemmeen curry (prawns)...

Of course with mother's cooking it's a no-holds barred event and guests are advised to carry their tissues with them. It is as much an all-encompassing experience for the human glands. While her vegetarian cooking is interesting, it is in the sea-food category that she beats all contenders.

Recently I was reading a travel magazine and I chanced upon this piece - "Of all the regional cuisines of India, perhaps the mention of the cuisine of the Malabar coast excites the maximum palates, and for very good reason. Even as Kozhikode's ports contributed the wealth of Kerala spice to the world, Arab, Jewish, Chinese, Portuguese, African and English traders who bought the spice left their own indelible influences on Kerala's kitchens. That's why a state as small as Kerala is home to an astounding variety of cuisine from pure vegetarian Namboodiri to Syrian Christian and Jewish to Mappila..."

So when her cooking had left such a huge imprint on me, I realized I was in fact celebrating a confluence of cultures that had assimilated itself into one tasty meal!

Picture Courtesy: http://www.indianholiday.com/india-photo-gallery/kerala/kerala-culture-104.html

2007-01-14T11:04:00.000+05:30

http://theringsideview.blogspot.com

Sometimes the best view is a ringside view.

Searching for Mrs.Zeta

2007-01-11T06:26:00.000+05:30

It was 1983 and I was in class V. Life was a little complicated. My father had died a little earlier and the world I had lived in seemed distant and fragile. My grades were suffering and I was drawing further and further into my shell.

That was when Mrs.Zeta held my hand. Through her gentle guidance and comforting presence I found an anchor. She was unconventional. A chronic smoker, she smelt of cigarettes when she came close. Her rasping cough is what I remember. But behind that devil may care attitude, I knew she was an angel.

When I remember Frank Anthony Junior School, I pay a tribute to her. For the last 17 years, I have been searching the real and the virtual world for her. Last heard she had migrated for some place 'abroad'.

My search continues...

Where's the party tonight....on the dance floor!

2007-01-08T20:23:00.000+05:30

New year's eve and with Shri, good friend and companion we walked into what we thought was a happening New Year's party. The hundred odd people were busy eating sitting in their corners even as the DJ was playing some popular numbers and urging the crowd to dance.

The crowd comprising tourists, families and some bored looking bunch of teenagers didn't seem to have any spirit left. Shri is the dancer and I am the actor. I mean dancing is in her blood. She's worked her way through Bharatnatyam, Kathak, Salsa and contemporary dance...(have I missed something!). She had been looking forward to this bash for a long time. I am the misfit when it comes to rhythm, I can't dance for the life of me.

This crowd sucks. She was despondent. 'Let's eat' I suggested. At last dance wouldn't be on the menu yet! I secretly rejoiced. We huddled over our plates, even as the songs began to get more and more frenetic.
With dinner out of the way, I suggested - 'how about getting out of this place?' That's when the Dj played a Goan number. With a look of determination, she said, are you joining me to dance? Or shall I go and dance on my own? "Now? I mean just the two of us...? Can't we wait a little after a few more people have started dancing?" How does it matter? We are leaving this place tomorrow and you are not going to meet this crowd again. It's okay if you make a fool of yourself." There seemed to be some logic in that argument.

We walked through the crowd and onto the dance floor, and we danced. Actually she danced and I was moving my body a bit. And you see, my acting got the better of me. I really began to enjoy the music and I sincerely started moving to the music. I am sure if somebody had filmed me they could have made a lot of money by just posting it on the net.
It was weird, the silence was overpowering. People were staring as I ended my 'dance' with a flourish. The MC took the microphone and congratulated us, that was when I realised that a few other people had also joined the dance. And then a miracle happened as if in slow motion, he was giving us a prize. I have never won a prize!!! Least of all for dancing! It was a holiday coupon for us in wonderful wonderful Coorg. We laughed so much my stomach started hurting.

What a great way to start the new year! Shri believes that my unconventional dancing was what caught the MC's eye. She is convinced there is a dancer in me. I honestly don't know, but I am game to shake a leg anytime now :)

What is the fabric of my life?

2007-01-06T18:21:00.000+05:30

Very recently I coined this term for myself. Then I felt I had to share it with others. It is probably an amalgamation of various concepts I have picked up from elsewhere - consciously or unconsciously. Or probably it is something I have lifted from somewhere...either which way I love it.

The fabric of my life is my experiences or the sum of my experiences. Much like a well woven piece of cloth... A well woven piece of cloth signifies experiences, tribulations, flexibility, openness and deep experience. It is not about just going through the sunny days but also going through the rain.
It is not about discriminating between one weather and the other, it is about having one's chin up all the same.

The fabric of my life is the strength my experiences have given me. It is me with all my flaws and my strengths. It is about looking at the mirror at the end of the day and saying - I think I have given my best.

Poetry in stone

2007-01-03T23:11:00.000+05:30

A 300 year old fort. Supposedly, the best preserved fort in Kerala. Walking into it, one is filled with a sense of awe and wonder. It's sheer beauty awakens your sensibilities. Built on the sea shore, the view is magnificent.
Bekal is a romantic meeting point of stone, sea and the sky.

Mangalore Holiday

2007-01-02T20:42:00.000+05:30

I was taking a picture of the sunset outlined around the rocks, when a crow just flew into the frame and presto I had a memorable picture. Mangalore was a well-earned break. Away from theatre, away from the traffic of Bangalore, I embraced the seas and the sand. Palm trees, sea food, lots of sleep and the sea.

My search for authentic Mangalorean fare was rather unsuccessful, all I got for my efforts were the hotel-version of Kane fry, which was certainly not inspiring. The long drive to Bekel fort was truly amazing. If there is a fort which inspires you to write poetry.. it is this.. it is this.. it is this...
On the other hand, the drive to Udipi was bone-shaking. If Kerala has learnt to preserve her roads, Karnataka is happy to take us to the stone age. I would recommend the Summer Sands Beach Resort to anyone visiting Mangalore. They gave me an experience to last a lifetime.

This picture summed up my experience. It is about things that happen without any planning. It is about being flexible and allowing things to happen to you. Like the sea, it's about going with the tide and making each moment memorable.

Shhh Angels at work!

2006-12-25T22:16:00.000+05:30

Will you play Secret Angel with us?
Momentarily taken aback I looked back at the eager eighteen year old.
What is that?
Well it is a game she patiently explained, each of us are a secret angel to somebody else and everyday right until Christmas we give a gift to that friend without that person knowing who the angel is. Right now everybody gets a turn to be an angel as well as receive gifts from another angel.
Sounds like a great idea, I agreed instantly.

During the next two weeks of the theatre workshop, secrecy was the buzzword as interesting gifts appeared all over the place. There were written notes, cards, chocolates, flowers, fruits..you name it. There were all there. There was a harmony in the exercise and the excitement was contagious. Of course, there was the odd angel who had outsourced his duties and a complaint would emerge from the group, is my secret angel sleeping?

What was truly remarkable was that the bonding of the group improved considerably and it made the task of my fellow trainers and myself very very easy. Personally, for me it was such a beautiful exercise and allowed the spirit of Christmas to truly awaken in each one of us. Most of us battle with every-day conflicts that ruin relationships. I realize that the answers lie in these very smart young people who taught me a thing or two about life.

When time stood still

2006-12-24T19:52:00.000+05:30

Havarakere village, 20 kilometres from Mysore, existed for me only in the stories of R.K.Narayan. The world of Havarakere is quintessential Malgudi. A bygone era, of innocence and sharing. A time, untouched by the pace that is ruining my city.

Yesterday, I took one step into that bygone era. I visited Havarakere. Along with a bus load of Canadian and Indian students and Theatre trainers, we visited this place to watch a local street theatre group in action. Away from the prying eyes of tourists, this serene place seemed to have emerged from a picture book.

When we arrived Havarakere was celebrating it's first Bus service. India got her independence 59 years ago! Today it is an emerging market in the global arena. It's IT prowess is acknowledged. It's wealth is envied by many.

The irony is obscene. One tiny village has got it's independence yesterday from the poverty of initiative and enterprise. Faced with apathy and neglect from the bureaucracy and the local government, the villagers got together, and levelled a motorable road. This they did within 8 days, and with the combined effort of 50 villagers. Inspired by a street play, they took the crucial step between despair and defeat. They won. The bus service is on. The street theatre troupe celebrated with the villagers and we were the lucky ones to be there.

Havarakere has taken it's bright single step into the sun. May it's denizens celebrate under it's sunshine.

Bottling the genie in

2006-12-20T08:13:00.000+05:30

A few months ago, I was conducting a two hour workshop in bonding for a group of teacher-trainers. They were mostly women in the age-range of 30 to 50. The group also included a few young men in their late twenties. We were having this workshop in a suburban hotel.

As the session progressed, the participants began to get very enthusiastically involved. It is a very magical moment when someone who looks extremely sober, suddenly (and maybe for the first time in her life) sheds that mask and begins to look like a mischievous teenager. The results were very delightful. These participants were discovering that they had a voice and were celebrating the moment.

It was progressing very beautifully and like any other theatre experience, the voice levels were rather high. That is when, a smartly dressed middle-aged gentleman walked into our room and requested us to lower our volumes because his company's board meeting was happening in the next room and we were disturbing them.

What was I supposed to do? Here was a legitimate request. Should we accede to his request? Should we blame the hotel management for the poor sound facilities and ask them to intervene? Or should we just continue with our exercise with the clear knowledge that we were wrecking somebody's programme and risk a serious confrontation?

I didn't have too much time to decide and asked the participants to lower their voices and participate. There were a few murmurs of protest but the general consensus was that, that was the best idea, as the hotel management was not co-operating with us on this issue. But at that instant the magic disappeared. The participants went through their paces and seemed to enjoy it some-what. But that magic, that liberating moment was no more.

The first moment when we discover our voices, when we discover we-can-do-it-all is a powerful moment in the theatre. I often think of that workshop and feel disappointed that for once the genie had to be bottled back.

PeePee & Zee

2006-08-04T20:21:00.000+05:30

Theirs was the ultimate romance of all. While still in college, a good 14 years ago, PeePee the brat met Zee the daughter of the don. Romance blossomed and the don's swords were out. They eloped just after graduating with a bunch of hired goons out to finish them. They escaped all that and started life in a new city. Life was difficult but they kept their chins up, in the face of hostility from their near and dear ones.

Till last month their life was on even keel. Pee Pee, heading a business unit in the world's largest MNC and Zee happily doing her own thing - teaching. Their lovely daughter complimenting this lovely family. Everything changed dramatically when Zee gave birth to a premature baby. Baby was rushed to the ICU and doctors discovered that Zee had developed a clot in her brain. She was rushed to a super speciality hospital. Doctors gave her a 50% chance to survive.

We were all devastated. Pee Pee was shell shocked. We chanted, prayed and visualised for Zee's recovery. Day in and day out, the prognosis wasn't good. She was not responding. Pee Pee didn't give up. He prayed. The miracle happened early last week. Zee was recovering....

Today she is out of the ICU and in a general ward. In some more time she should be able to go back home. Welcome back to life. Welcome back...

Iam not Superman

2006-06-19T20:26:00.000+05:30

One of the most powerful affirmations which have made my life journeys smoother and more acceptable is prayer. Iam not religious in the strictest sense of the word, but I definitely have a very strong tilt towards spirituality.

When I was working in a corporate environment, I don't think I depended so heavily on prayer. Pursuing theatre as a career is another ball game all by itself and probably needs all the prayers that one can ask for ;)

Prayer has worked wonders for me. It has made me more sensitive to what is happening around me. I can now understand why a friendship needs to die. Iam beginning to understand that quality is an end by itself, I realize that a world class performance can happen in Bangalore and the entire theatre community will be unaware of it, I am now able to watch more stoically that after a life-changing experience through theatre a particular person may not really acknowledge me on the street...

When I recently went on a holiday to the jungle, I knew I was more safe over there than on the streets of Bangalore with all the cabbies going berserk. While trekking we chanced upon a bison. This massive bull stood six foot upwards, staring at us. It was one of the most beautiful moments that I have experienced. We just stood and gazed at the beast in awe. In a few seconds it dashed off in a flash. That moment was so spiritual in nature that I knew it was like entering an ancient temple filled with positive energy.

Thanks to prayer I realize that Iam only human after all. It is reassuring and satisfying to know that you are a tiny blot in this miasma of what we call consciousness and understanding.

Un-magic

2006-04-20T14:34:00.000+05:30

Currently organising a series of workshops for children of employees of an IT major, the other day they were treated to a magic show.
The bunch comprising 2 - 16 year olds were on their toes when the magician took the stage.

Poor chap! He must have been doing it for the last 20 odd years, but the response he got here was scary to say the least. All the children seemed to know the facts behind every trick. Exposed to television and what-not, as far as they were concerned there was zero impact. They knew where the coin vanished and how the rabbit popped out of the hat.

It was a disaster. He salvaged the situation somewhat by pulling out some not-very-popular-magic tricks. But this time there were no applause, just contemplation and animated discussions about these new tricks and how he must have pulled them off.

A few years down the line, the magician is going to be an extinct species.

Bougainvillae splendour

2006-04-15T10:48:00.000+05:30

'We should have bougainvillae creepers on the fence, they go well with the exposed brick"
Arun, my dreamer-architect told me years ago...
Sitting over a cup of coffee, what Arun said was music to my ears.
This was my dream home we were talking about and Arun had planned it to the last detail
I didn't know then that it would take 6 frustratingly long years for that dream to become a reality.

So I planted four Bougainvillae plants. I was told by the guy who sold them to me that they were
four different colours - Red, pink, light yellow and white...
I waited for months waiting for them to bloom
1-2-3-4-5-6-
Last week, as I stepped out for my morning walk they had bloomed!
White...they were all white!
A radiant, pure, hopelessly in love white :)

My neighbours must be thinking that Iam completely nuts,
what else would you call somebody who takes every opportunity
to admire these blooms misty eyed!

Vision 2020 production pics

2006-04-11T20:00:00.000+05:30

Happiness is doing a play

2006-04-11T19:38:00.000+05:30

Happiness is doing a play
with a bunch of errant souls ;)

Hmmm

2006-04-04T18:57:00.000+05:30

When do you make wrong choices for the right reasons...
(That's a new one).
I always thought it was the other way round...
On the Ryze network, somebody posted this on my home page -
It was about love for theatre, but sacrificing it for a comfortable career etc etc
But the way I see it, that is the right choice for the wrong reasons
Don't give me crap that theatre doesn't pay
Ask me - It pays and Big time - period.
When you give excuses like that about not following your heart
you are just striking a miserable pose
Ultimately human life is about 10 - 15 - 20 - or a max of about 30 years (depending on how old you are)
where you can be really productive
after that is downhill time
Make the most of this God-given life
Make the most of your talents, abilities,
20 years down the line when you look at the mirror what do you want to see
Somebody who could have had it all? or a boring loser in a suit?
Lets learn to listen to our hearts and the poetry of our soul
Let's do things our way.

Yesterday

2006-03-28T21:38:00.000+05:30

I watched as they tore the sets. Hammers, hands, anything that helped to tear down that beautiful work of art. The crowds had all gone. The actors had left. I was left alone standing watching the final act of them all. The India gate fell, Gandhiji and Aishwarya Rai and the streets and Kalam...Piece by piece the efficient hands were doing there job.

I walked out unable to watch it anymore. For the theatre lover, the theatre is in his head...those images, those songs, those moments of glory. No camera can capture it's magic...for the actor and the audience the magic is in his memories.

It's time to go on...time to walk ahead with that beautiful song running in my head.

Where have all the chicken gone?

2006-02-21T12:18:00.000+05:30

Sigh! More sighs...some more prominent sighs...(sigh).

I sit at the restaurant at my favourite spot and the friendly waiter approaches me. Today he has a haggard look and his normally cleanshaven face sports a fresh stubble. I know the look and I turn to my glass of water.

Give me something vegetarian...the words pierce his heart. He has a defeated look. Sorry, but I can't meet his eyes. He turns and walks slowly back to the kitchen.

Time was when a CB made all the difference. CB? C-h-i-c-k-e-n B-i-r-i-y-a-n-i
I would say matter of fact - give me a biriyani and he would yell - ONE CB! The other diners would nod in my direction in an act of fellowship. There sits one of us who knows what it is to let the chicken melt in your mouth.

But these are different times. Straight out of a horror film. I watch in silent agony as the news channels make merry out of us non-vegetarians plight. Some say it's a conspiracy.

Spare us your jargon. Spare us your commentary. Just give us our simple old CB.

When someone passes through...

2006-02-03T11:10:00.000+05:30

I was in Calicut last week. Exactly 5 months after my Grandmother passed away. For me Calicut has been one of my favourite get-away spots. It has been, until now.

What is it about somebody passing away? On a rational level one can say that an old woman has lived to the ripe age of 86 and that living without any illness till that age is a blessing by itself. I want to sound rational and be practical, but i horribly miss her.

I miss seeing her wrinkles. Feeling the warmth of those ancient hands. I miss listening her sing - row, row, row your boat,
gently down the stream
merrily, merrily, merrily,
life is but a dream

Yes life is a dream and when you sang it in your broken voice, you immortalised that song in my heart, so much that I can only hear it sing one way...your way.

:)

2006-01-23T14:44:00.000+05:30

Greetings! I have done it at last. Like numerous others before me, I have finally succumbed to it... Iam not talking about virginity or worse some abstract concept here.
Iam talking about finally opening my own blog.

For a long time I held the view as to how was it possible that people could publish a personal diary of their lives online. I just couldn't subscribe to the view.
But at 32, you wish you had published that book or gotten around to writing it. I don't know when I will get the discipline and start writing consistently. Iam hoping this will be a start.

So dear friends, kingmakers, queens, fellow netizens hear lie the footprints of a once-upon-a-time-rat, who quit the race when the going was good. I quit it when greener pastures beckoned me. I listened to the song of my soul and the going has never been this GOOD.